In Darkness Dwell
by S.J. Kohl
Summary: Zack has to help Sephiroth reclaim his faltering control over the Jenova cells. ZackSephiroth
1. Chapter 1

In Darkness Dwell  
Part One: Starlight  
By S.J. Kohl

Pairing: (Zack/Sephiroth)  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: Sephiroth can't have the one thing he really wants.  
Disclaimer: Not mine...

Sephiroth stood on the roof of the compound, arms spread wide and lifted toward the sky, body clad in nothing more than his customary black leather pants. He sighed as the night air kissed his skin, smiled a small, tight smile as the breeze--heavy with the oiled leather scent of the compound--curled across his face. He enjoyed these nights. This solitude. It was a time when he was surrounded by nothing and no one, disturbed by no voice but his own. Up here there was no ShinRa, no SOLDIER. No wars to fight, no troops to lead into death and decimation. There were just the stars overhead and the silence of the empty night. Sephiroth opened his eyes and dropped his arms gracefully to his sides.

There was one thing lacking in the perfection of the night, one flaw in this beautiful design. He looked behind him, beside him. And sighed. There was no brash chuckle echoing through the air, no familiar head of stubborn, spiky black hair. He didn't know when his perception of Zack had changed, when the man had gone from rival to comrade to friend. And now… Sephiroth didn't know quite what Zack was to him now. More than friend, and, though brother-in-arms, certainly not brother. There was a closeness between them that he couldn't quite place, a connection they shared that he'd never felt with anyone else. Zack knew him. Zack…loved him.

Sephiroth frowned. He knew it was true. Zackary had told him, many times. And, more than that, Sephiroth could see it in the other man's eyes, could feel it in even the most innocent touch. And they were all innocent. Surprisingly so. Knowing the way Zack flirted with every living human--man or woman--he could get his too skilled hands on, Sephiroth wasn't quite sure why he was left out of the casual teasing. But he was grateful for it. He didn't think he would be able to stand it if Zackary were to touch him like that, to allow his hands to linger on Sephiroth's skin, his fingers to trail down a strong, pale arm…

Sephiroth shivered. No. He wouldn't be able to stand that. There was a sickness inside him, one that lurked and hid deep within his consciousness. He could feel it growing every day, a roiling blackness tinged with feral anger. It consumed whatever it touched. It was what came over him during battle, what enabled him to kill with such seeming ease. It was dark and furious, mad with rage. And it was part of him, an indelible facet of his thrice-damned personality. It was a part of him he knew far too well.

And it was a part of him to which he would _not_ subject Zackary. Zack was the only friend he'd ever had, was his lifeline in this forsaken place. And he would not repay that undeserved kindness with his filth. He would not inflict his taint upon Zackary's skin. Because Sephiroth knew. He knew that when he was with Zack, when his hands ached to reach out and brush against his young friend's waiting flesh, the darkness rose up within him, hungry and intent. It wanted Zackary.

He wanted Zackary.

But Zackary was something Sephiroth could never have.

He took a deep breath and lifted his face to the sky, casting his too green eyes to the wide expanse of silver and midnight blue that crowned the world. For a moment he was clean, bathed in pure, shifting starlight.

And then the moment was gone. A cloud covered the moon and darkness reigned once more. Slowly, reluctantly, Sephiroth lowered his chin and turned away from the roof's edge. Gathering his gear and slipping back into the elegant trappings of his uniform, he left the roof, left his sanctuary and returned to the world of ShinRa and SOLDIER through nondescript, the entrance to a narrow stairwell.

It was time to get back to work. 


	2. Chapter 2

In Darkness Dwell  
Part Two: Slumber

Summary: Sephiroth finds Zack sleeping in their office.

Sephiroth opened the door to the office he shared with Zack, a large room on the top floor of the main building of the SOLDIER complex. He always had been glad he and the rest of his men were housed separately from the rest of ShinRa's operatives. He certainly didn't want to have to walk past Turk headquarters or the Labs every time he left his office.

He paused on the threshold with his hand still resting on the cold metal knob of the door. He blinked. The room was divided into two poles, as always. His side, on the left, organized and almost fanatically neat. A black leather chair. A sleek, black wood desk with a couple of hard-backed chairs before it. A couple of filing cabinets. A window overlooking the practice field.

And Zackary's side. Cluttered and worn-looking. A battered desk facing Sephiroth's, nearly beaten to a pulp, complete with coffee rings and piles of uneven, disheveled stacks of paper. More hard-backed chairs, also battered and scuffed. Additional filing cabinets, drawers half-closed and folders peeking out, only half-heartedly stuffed into place. Pictures of anything and everything on the wall behind him--a smiling girl with large, liquid green eyes, a solemn cadet with unruly spikes of blond hair, other SOLDIERs, flowers and landscapes, a motorcycle. And in the middle of it all, leaning back in a worn leather chair on wheels that squeaked at even the slightest movement, was Zack.

Sleeping.

His head was tilted to the side, his mouth partially open. His hair was tousled, falling across his face and sticking up in sharp spikes all at once. His eyes were closed and his muscles slack in peaceful slumber. His uniform was rumpled, the zipper of his black sweater half-unzipped, hinting at the pale, well-muscled chest hidden beneath the fabric.

Sephiroth licked his lips. He took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away, mentally directing his steps toward his own desk. But his feet moved in the other direction, impelled by a will of their own, and he found himself standing over Zackary, staring down at his solemn, slumbering face. The darkness was at peace, not tempted by the soft innocence before it. Pulling the glove off of one long-fingered hand, Sephiroth reached out cautiously, hesitantly, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. His breathing shallow, he brushed just the tips of his fingers against the soft, unlined skin of Zack's face.

The younger man shifted and stirred slightly, the gleaming tip of a pink tongue peaking out to wet parted lips as a slight, almost soundless groan rose from his throat.

Sephiroth jerked his hand back, his heart pounding against his ribs. The darkness surged for a moment, filling him with the nearly uncontrollable urge to take, to _possess._ He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth tightly against the flow of bitter, controlling anger. _No._ He wanted this man. He…loved this man.

But not like this. This was cruel and cold. This was not what he wanted for Zack. With Zack. With a sharp growl, Sephiroth lashed out at the darkness.

And it receded, draining back down into that deep part of himself that was never truly stable or sated. With a deep sigh of relief, Sephiroth cracked his eyes open to see that Zack had settled once more, the peaceful mask of sleep once again smoothing out his features. Swallowing once, thickly, his hand trembling just the slightest bit, Sephiroth reached out again. He shivered at the silky feel of skin as it caressed the tips of his fingers, wondered at the curves of cheekbones and the hard line of jaw. His heart stuttered at the slight, pleasured sounds that slipped from between Zack's lips, and, as his hand sank deep into that unruly mane of soft, inky black hair Sephiroth felt tendrils of arousal slither through his veins for the first time.

He gasped, his grip tightening on Zack's hair, eliciting a deep groan from the still sleeping man, as heat shivered through his body and pooled between his thighs. Slowly, entranced, he pulled the glove off his other hand and dropped it absently to the floor. He ran slim, pale-skinned fingers over the broad expanse of Zackary's forehead and traced the faint smile lines at the corners of his lips. He slipped his hands downward to feel the living throb as blood pumped through the veins in the younger man's neck, caressed the sharp outline of collarbones with the tips of gentle fingers. Then his hands drifted lower, exploring the contours of strong muscle sheathed in tight skin laced with the tight lines of scars, earned on long-abandoned battlefields. _So young,_ Sephiroth thought. _He's so young to bear such scars._

His arousal hot and throbbing in his blood, his sex hard and aching between his legs, Sephiroth leaned down, slowly covering the distance between his body and Zack's. It was wrong, he knew, to violate Zackary's body like this, to trace hidden flesh without his permission. But he couldn't stop himself, couldn't lean back and walk away. So he closed his eyes and let the darkness rise within him, just once. Just this once. And then he pressed his lips to Zack's, tasting the cool shadows of Zackary's slack, slumbering mouth.

Zack tasted like a summer night, soft and sultry all at once. Cool on the surface, but slick with hidden heat. Sephiroth brought his hands up and allowed them to tangle in his second's thick, tumbled hair. His lips parted with a startled gasp at the shock that rippled through him as his lips met Zack's, and his tongue snaked out, slipping between the younger man's full lips. He explored the mouth beneath his, tested the hard contours of even teeth and the soft ridges at the roof of his palate. He lost himself to the kiss and didn't register the change in Zack's breathing, didn't notice the hands that wound around his shoulders or the body that arched up against him. It was all Zack, just Zack, and Sephiroth was lost, drowning in unfamiliar sensation and shifting, swirling emotion.

And then Zack's lips were moving, warm and gentle against Sephiroth's, his tongue slipping and sliding in strong strokes, encouraging and guiding Sephiroth's explorations. Not taking control, not resisting. Just inviting.

And Sephiroth took the invitation. His hands fisted Zack's hair in a tight grip, and his kiss grew hungry, heated and fervent. He moaned, low and desperate, calling forth an answering groan from Zack's lips, a hoarse cry that spilled between their mouths. His tongue lashed out, reveling in the darkness that whipped and whirled about him, urging him onward, forcing him to take, to plunge deeper, driving them both into a harsh frenzy of desperate arousal.

And then Zack whimpered, a needy, guttural sound that pulled Sephiroth back to ground.

His eyes snapped open and panic shot through his body. What was he doing? What was he thinking? The blackness surrounded him in a thick, roiling fog, filtering rational thought from his mind and branding him with fiery cravings for dominance and domination. With a sharp cry of denial, he stumbled backward, Zack's every panting breath an accusation in his ears.

Clapping shaking hands over his ears, Sephiroth spun and wound his way around Zack's battered desk, green flame rising behind his eyes to twist in his mind, teasing him, taunting him with the things he was capable of doing.

"Seph?" Zack's voice was low, soothing.

But Sephiroth only shook his head. Straightening with determined effort, he lowered his arms and walked with even, measured steps to the door. When it was open, the dim, unornamented hallway stretching before him, he looked back at Zack, struck by the confused arousal in the man's eyes. Sephiroth opened his mouth, struggling to find the words to apologize, to explain. But in the end he said nothing. What could he say? Forcing the black rage down to a comfortable distance, Sephiroth turned and walked out the door. 


	3. Chapter 3

In Darkness Dwell  
Part Three: Grip

Summary: Zack tries to figure things out.

Zack sat there for a long time, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, struggling to get his breathing and his thoughts back under his control. His mind was wrapped in a thick fog of lust and desire, his body tight and strained with intense arousal. Finally, though, a thin thread of concern twisted into the mist, leeching the arousal back to a warm sheen that coated the surface of Zack's flesh. He really was an idiot.

An overwhelming, unrivaled idiot. All this time he'd thought that Sephiroth didn't want anything more from him than friendship. When his hints and admissions and invitations had been brushed off again and again, he'd thought it was the General's way of telling him to bugger off and bugger someone else. Zack sighed. That obviously was not the case. Slowly, Zack raised a hand to touch his swollen, still warm lips. He could still feel the pressure there, the sheer force of the emotions that had guided Sephiroth's touch. There had been desperation and passion, need and fire. He had wanted Zack, maybe even…loved him? 

Zack licked his lips, half-tempted to think it had all been a dream. He _had_ been dreaming, that he knew for sure. Those light, caressing touches… Zack shivered. But they'd been real, hadn't they? Perhaps he hadn't been dreaming after all.

But if it wasn't indifference that had guided Sephiroth's refusals, what was it? Zack scratched his head thoughtfully. He had tasted fear at the end. Anger and frustration. Bitterness. The General had lost control, had given in to instinct and desire. Zack's eyes narrowed. Maybe that was it. He had forgotten something about Sephiroth, something he should have remembered. Sephiroth had never touched anyone, man or woman, in the heat of passion. He was a solitary figure, a warrior who needed no one and nothing. Or so he told himself.

Groaning deeply, Zack pinched the skin at the bridge of his nose. The General was a virgin. _Shit._ He'd never really thought of it that way. He'd always respected what he'd thought of as Sephiroth's wishes before, keeping their friendship smooth and safe and focusing his more…amorous attentions on others. He hadn't been able to manage more than casual, flirting touches and comments since he'd fallen in love with his General, though. It hadn't seemed…right, somehow, to let anyone touch him after that, no matter how desperate he got. No, he belonged to Sephiroth, whether the man was willing to take him or not.

But it seemed, now, that Sephiroth was willing. Zack just had to convince him it was a good idea. He thought he knew where to find the older man. He'd be on the roof, Zack was certain of it. Sephiroth went up there often, and Zack had always longed to follow. He never had, though. He might be a pain in the ass, but he wasn't insensitive enough to intrude on someone's hiding place.

Until tonight, that was. With a sneaky grin and an easy stretch, Zack rose to his feet and padded out of the office, wondering what exactly he was going to have to deal with when he reached the roof.

As he pushed open the heavy metal door to the roof, stepping out into the cool night air, he took in a sharp breath at the figure of Sephiroth, a silver silhouette against the dark sky. He was poised on the edge of the roof, long silver hair shifting in the breeze, his back straight, his muscles tensed and strained. Zack couldn't see his face, but he seemed to be struggling against something. Some internal force that was fighting for control.

Zack recognized the signs. How could he not? It was the same force he struggled with himself on occasion. And he knew, now, what it was, though he hadn't in the beginning. It was the mako, the treatments they all underwent to attain strength and stamina, speed and power. It was a dark force, rife with rage and ferocity. Zack swallowed. If he sometimes had trouble fighting down the dark urges that came along with the strengh, how much harder must it be for Sephiroth, the perfect soldier, the strongest of them all? Zack's pulse pounded roughly in his ears. So this was what Sephiroth was afraid of. This was why he'd been running.

Zack's eyes narrowed in determination. He crossed the roof in quick, sure steps, pausing just a few feet behind his General. He cleared his throat. "It isn't you, you know."

Sephiroth didn't flinch, didn't move for long moments that stretched out a lifetime between the frantic beats of Zack's heart. Then he shook his head slowly, sadly. "It's part of me, Zack."

Zack nodded, though he knew Sephiroth wouldn't see it. "It's part of all of us. But it isn't really you."

Silence, calculating and considering. "Then what is it?"

Zack shrugged. "Mako. It's what they do to make us what we are. All that strength has to have some side effects, Seph. We're the ones who suffer; we're the ones who have to struggle for control. They don't even tell us about it, about what it does to us."

Sephiroth's shoulders were a tight, angry line. "Why do we serve them, Zackary? Why do we dance at their bidding?"

Zack shrugged. He didn't really have an answer. "Because we want to help. And this is the only way we know to do it. ShinRa has the power, Seph. We have to fit ourselves in where we can if we want to help keep people safe."

"And if I'm the danger?"

Growling in frustration, Zack surged forward and jerked Sephiroth back from the edge roughly, spun him around to face him, his hands clenched around the older man's upper arms in a fierce grip. "You are not the danger, Sephiroth. You're the hope."

"But--"

"So you aren't perfect!" Zack interrupted him. "Get over it. You have issues just like everyone else. You just have to learn to deal with them. That anger, that black fire that surges up inside of you? I've got it too! We've _all_ got it, Seph. Maybe not as bad as you, but we all have it." His anger melting, Zack suddenly realized that he was _manhandling_ the _General_. Considering what he'd just found out about Sephiroth and the mako effects, that probably wasn't such a great idea. Slowly, carefully, he relaxed his hold and stared up into a pair of wild green eyes. "Look…it doesn't make you evil. Or…bad, I guess. It doesn't make you any less of a person." 

"Doesn't it?" Sephiroth's voice was flat and emotionless. Zack shuddered inwardly. He'd learned over the past few years that that voice was _not_ a good sign.

"No," Zack shook his head. "You're still you. You're still the same man I met when I first came here." The wind whipped around him, chill and wet. He could taste the earthy, metallic tang of rain on the air. His fingers still resting lightly on Sephiroth's arms, Zack licked his lips, his eyes lighting up with warm, gently smoldering desire. Rising up on the balls of his feet, he slid his arms around Sephiroth's broad, strong shoulders, pressing his body against the sleek leather of his General's uniform and softly covering Sephiroth's lips with his own. Sephiroth's stance was stiff and uneasy at first, but Zack wasn't backing down this time, not now that he knew Sephiroth wanted him. He kept the kiss slow and gentle, a trickle of soft heat in the cool of the late night air. 

And Seph didn't pull away. Gradually, reluctantly, he relaxed into Zack's tender torture, his demons presumably held at bay for the moment.

With one last stroke of his tongue, Zack pulled back, grinning uncontrollably. This was better than the prize he'd begged from Sephiroth on Officer Appreciation Day last year. Much better. "Hey, Seph, wanna take this conversation inside? I mean, it's really, really late. The newbies'll be tossed out of their beds and onto the practice field soon. I don't mind being up here when they stumble outside, but I doubt you want this little make out session to become the latest bit of gossip among the cadets." He waited for Sephiroth's reluctant nod, then stepped back. "So, my rooms?"

One elegant eyebrow arched upward. "Your rooms?"

Zack shrugged. "They're closer. And if they don't find us at our desks in the morning, the last place they'll look for me is my own room."

"Disturbingly enough, Zackary, I must concede that that's probably true." The General sighed. "Your room it is. Lead the way."

With a devious gleam sparking behind his eyes, Zack smiled a smile that was nothing close to innocent and shoved his hands into his pockets, striding eagerly across the roof to the door. It was bound to be an interesting morning, even if he didn't survive it. 


	4. Chapter 4

In Darkness Dwell  
Part Four: Burn

Summary: Shadows close in.

"Look…I can help you." The bed squeaked as Zack shifted slightly, not meeting Sephiroth's even gaze. "If you'll let me, that is."

Sephiroth still stood, leaning in the doorway of Zack's disorganized bedroom, not quite sure where to sit. The only place available was the bed, but…Zack was on the bed. Sephiroth glared. "Help me how, exactly, Zackary? I'm still confused as to how you knew about the effects of the mako when I did not."

Zack snorted. "They didn't tell me or anything. I figured it out on my own, after…after Wutai." He shuddered. "So much blood and death, so much anger, Seph. And it wasn't me, wasn't who I was and I knew that. But I felt it anyway, driving me on, turning me into the kind of ruthless soldier ShinRa wants. When we got back, I started asking questions. Nothing major, just asking some of the guys how they felt when they were out there, when they were angry, when they were…in bed. Anything that gets the blood pumping and the emotions high." He grinned in self-satisfaction. "No one even bats an eyelash anymore when I ask questions like that. It's just part of who I am, what I am. Anyway, I started putting things together. None of the troopers felt it, none of the Turks. Just SOLDIERs. And the stronger you were, the worse it got. I…I can't even imagine what it's like for you, Seph."

Sephiroth shrugged. "I never knew about the mako. I've…been in and out of the labs for as long as I can remember. As ShinRa's chosen candidate for General, I started getting the treatments as a child. A very young child. The mako's as much a part of me now as my eyes or my voice. It never occurred to me that the two might be linked. There's no way to get rid of it?"

Zack shook his head slowly, sadly. "Not that I know of. But…I _can_ help you."

Sephiroth stiffened and looked away. He thought he knew what kind of help Zackary was planning to offer, and he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't use anyone like that, much less a friend. And he would certainly _never_ risk hurting Zack because he couldn't control his rage. And he wouldn't be able to, not in the heat of passion. He knew that, just from what he'd felt when he'd come upon Zackary sleeping in the office. That had been just a taste, just a sweet, tiny taste of what the younger man had to offer, and even so, all of Sephiroth's carefully maintained control had collapsed. 

"You won't hurt me."

Sephiroth's green eyes snapped to meet Zack's determined blue ones. With a low growl, he slithered out of the doorway and across the room, stopping when he stood between Zack's spread legs, staring down at the wide-eyed man sitting on the bed. With one still ungloved hand, he jabbed a finger roughly into Zack's well-muscled chest. "You know nothing about what I'm capable of, Zackary. So don't even pretend to think you know what I could do to you."

Zack snorted and smirked. "Oh, believe, I know what you could do to me. You could blast me to palm-sized pieces and splatter my guts all over the wall. You could call in the demonic sword of yours and split me in two. Hell, you could probably do it with your bare hands, if you wanted. I'm not saying you can't, Seph. I'm saying you won't."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because you love me. Because you want to keep what belongs to you. And I do belong to you, General. I have for a long time."

A stifled hunger blazed behind the green of Sephiroth's narrowed, slit-pupiled eyes. "Why?"

"Why did I fall in love with you?" Zack scoffed. "Shit, I don't know, Seph. It was easy; I didn't even think about it. Just…one day I realized I didn't want anyone else."

"And you think I feel the same way?"

"Well, until today I didn't." Zack grinned, his eyes traveling up and down the long, leather-clad torso in front of him. "But now…I'm pretty damn certain, yeah."

Sephiroth's voice was low, almost silent, as he lifted his hand from Zack's chest. "Even if I do love you, it doesn't mean I won't hurt you. I can't…I don't…" He snarled harshly, unable to articulate the thoughts that were whirling through his mind.

"Seph," Zack took Sephiroth's hand, lacing their fingers tightly together and staring up earnestly into a pair of troubled green eyes. "You can't control it when things get heavy. Believe me, I know. It's different on the battlefield; the emotions are different. It's…easier to cope, somehow. Gets easier all the time, doesn't it? But this…this is different. It's something you've…well, something you've never done before, and you'll be all bound up inside it." He paused, squeezed Sephiroth's cool, pale hand. "But this _will_ help. Trust me. It'll give you an outlet for all of that, makes it easier to control from day to day. And…it's something I want to do, Sephiroth. For you. For me. I've been waiting for a long time, thinking I could never have you. I just…I just want to belong to you."

A black flame ignited in Sephiroth's veins at those words, his body's instinctive urge to take, to possess, writhing within him. Furiously, he choked it back. "Zackary…"

"Just…think about it for a second, Seph. What did you feel when you touched me earlier?"

Memories laced through Sephiroth's mind. _Zack's skin beneath his fingertips, Zack's lips dancing with his, their tongues slipping, sliding…_ "Desire," he whispered. "Power. Lust. Burning urgency. Need. Fury. The drive to take. To possess."

Zack chuckled. "You won't hurt me. Well, not seriously. You might be a little rough from time to time, but it won't be anything I can't take. Seriously, I'm the strongest SOLDER there is, besides you. A little rough sex won't kill me." He smiled slyly at the flickering resistance on Sephiroth's face. Then he did something that was probably going to get him killed.

He stuck his free hand between Sephiroth's thighs and squeezed, caressing roughly, forcefully the growing bulge he found between them.

He wasn't quite prepared for the liquid black fire that erupted behind the General's feral green eyes or the hand that shot down to clap around his wrist in a vice-like grip. 


	5. Chapter 5

In Darkness Dwell  
Part Five: Release

Summary: Zack gets what he bargained for.

Zack found himself shoved viciously backward onto the bed, his clothes ripped carelessly from his body to land in shredded piles on the already littered bedroom floor. Sephiroth was wild and hungry, and Zack, despite how desperately he wanted this, despite how long it had been since anyone had touched him like this, had to struggle against his instinctive urge to fight or flee. He was naked and panting, pinned to the bed by strong thighs and bruising hands as his General stared down into his glazed blue eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Zack was brash and cocky, confident, even a touch arrogant at times. He was SOLDIER, a First Class warrior. He did _not_ give in, did not surrender himself to another, no matter who that other might be. He was the dominant figure in any tryst or relationship, and his body knew it. The black rage that twisted in his gut--the match to Sephiroth's--knew it.

But this was Sephiroth. This was his General, the man to whom he owed his loyalty and his service. This was the man who'd become his closest friend, the man he'd come to love. This was Sephiroth, the one man on this planet who could handle Zack's strength, who could take everything he had to give and still come out on top. This was Seph, the only man to whom Zack had ever _wanted_ to surrender, the only man by whom he wanted to be utterly possessed.

So Zack gave in. He choked down the black knot of possessive anger he'd long since learned to control, and forced his body to relax and move where the General bid him. Then he looked up into the face of all that rage, all that black power. And he smiled. "I'm yours," he said. "General." 

---------

Sephiroth snarled from where he pinned Zackary to the bed, his thighs on either side of the younger man's legs, their twin arousals sliding and moving together. The darkness rose and shifted within him, tantalizing, teasing. He didn't fight it, let it take control of him, groaning as a fierce hunger, a surge of power and feral pleasure coursed through his veins. He tightened his grip on the wrists he held pinioned above his soon-to-be-lover's head and leaned down, claiming the man's lips in a harsh, deep kiss. His tongue wove and lashed through his quarry's mouth, tasting the dark sweetness of delicious heat. But then those lips were responding, reaching out to pull him closer, pull his tongue deeper. Growling, Sephiroth jerked back and glared down into dark, dilated eyes. "Don't move."

A slight groan in response, heavy and protesting. But when Seph leaned down to claim Zack's lips again, the man lay still, though his muscles quivered beneath the heat of Sephiroth's body and the fire of his kiss. He was more leisurely this time in his explorations. His tongue danced out, reveling in the slick heat of Zackary's mouth and swirling and teasing the tense length of his tongue. He sucked and nipped at a full, sensuous bottom lip, glorying in the low, needy moans that slipped past the young man's throat. He had the boy firmly in his power, splayed out before him, ready to obey his every command. With one last, sharp bite to Zack's lip, Sephiroth sat back, releasing his hold on Zack's wrists to systematically remove his own clothing, save for his pants and boots. Then he licked his lips and stared down appreciatively at the feast before him. Zackary was flushed and panting, his bare, tightly muscled flesh covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes were wide and dark with arousal, and his hair was tousled, a few stubborn strands falling down onto his face. His lips were swollen and red, parted to allow the tip of a glistening tongue to show between them. His hands were clenched into tight fists in the blankets behind his head, the muscles corded with the effort to remain still.

Sephiroth smiled, a sly, knowing smile. "You want to touch me, Zackary?"

Zack nodded, his breathing shallow and quick.

Sephiroth chuckled and shook his head. "Not this time. This time, everything belongs to me." And he leaned back down, his hips grinding into the younger man's, calling forth a rough cry of pleasure and frustration that earned an answering shiver from Sephiroth's skin. He explored the body beneath his, taking his time, allowing his lips and hands and teeth to nip and nuzzle and touch every inch of flesh, every strand of hair. He'd never been this close to another person before, and he found the sensation of skin sliding against skin amazingly sensual, the pounding of Zackary's heart a litany driving him onward. Sephiroth's body throbbed, his sex aching for a release he'd never before desired to seek, and the black rage burned and boiled, filling his body with a sharp, throbbing pulse of anger and power. He wanted to take, to own, to claim. The only thing that kept him from careening over the edge into violent blood-letting was the willing submission of his captive, the pleasured moans spilling from between parted lips, the whispered pleas and encouragements for more even as Zackary remained utterly still as he'd been directed to do. One objection, one single attempt to struggle, and, Sephiroth knew, Zackary would be dead.

His hands bracing his prey's hips against the soft mattress, he nuzzled at Zackary's inner thigh, nipping sharply, warningly at the jerking muscles until they were once again rock steady beneath his lips. His lover would have to learn self-control. In one swift move, he engulfed the man's straining sex, his teeth scraping against sensitive skin, threatening damage if the strained moans turned into thrusts. Muscles tightened, corded, and the hips remained still. Sephiroth hummed approvingly around the full weight the pressed against his tongue, garnering another strangled gasp and stifled groan. He moved then, tasting and testing, gauging the reactions of his victim. Soon, though, the gasps turned to growls and muffled curses and the hips began to quiver and tremble beneath Sephiroth's torturous onslaught. With one last swab of his tongue, he released the young man's arousal, chuckling cruelly at the almost pained sobs that tore from Zack's throat as he was robbed of his much needed release.

But those cries pierced the fog of dark power as nothing else could have, driving Sephiroth into such a heated frenzy of lust and arousal that his eyes flew wide, his nostrils flared, and his muscles shivered with the sheer force of it. His breathing became shallow, a collection of ragged, needy gasps that matched those of his still, obedient lover, and he quickly opened the catches of his leather pants, freeing himself from the constraints of the fabric. Carelessly, he lifted and shoved at Zack's legs, pushing them up against his chest, and he aligned himself with his lover's entrance, surging forward on a burst of black anger and closing his eyes at the tight, overwhelming heat of Zackary's body. He paused then, his hips pressed flush against Zack's skin, his sex fully sheathed. As he adjusted to the unfamiliar sensations, he stretched his hands out, sifting through the dark lust and allowing himself to caress tenderly, softly, the tight line of Zack's jaw, the deep furrow of his brow.

Then he began to move, exalting in the rough cries that spilled from Zackary's throat--sounds of pain and pleasure, need and desire. His own moans rose to join his lover's, and he sighed in slide of skin on skin as Zackary's legs shifted to wrap about his waist, too caught up in their joining to recall his demand for stillness. They moved together, setting a harsh rhythm of driving need and mounting pleasure, and as he neared the brink, Sephiroth opened his eyes, caught and held by the limpid pools of burnished, violet sapphire that stared up at him. He leaned down and captured those tantalizing lips in a fiery kiss that held everything of love and nothing of anger, and he moaned as Zack cried out into his mouth, arms winding around Sephiroth's shoulders and nails digging in as he spilled himself between their bodies. As Zack's spasming convulsions pulled Seph deeper into his willing body, Sephiroth threw his head back at the white-hot pleasure that spread outward from the base of his spine, his lips parted as he moaned, blissful release coming over him with the force of a sword-thrust.

He collapsed onto Zack's body, shuddering and shivering as Zack whispered softly in his ear, his hands moving in soothing circles over Sephiroth's back. And that's when Sephiroth realized it.

The darkness was gone. Faded away with his powerful release as their bodies joined and moved together. It would come back, he knew. But for now…for this moment, he was just Sephiroth. Just a man. Smiling softly, Sephiroth lifted his head and leaned in for a gentle, tender kiss. Just a meeting, a slow brush of lips to lips, skin to skin. For the first time in years, he felt whole, unbroken.

Sephiroth sighed and nuzzled into the soft flesh of his lover's neck. It was good to be home at last.


End file.
